Page 38 of Golden Burn

Dom closes his laptop. “That’s all for now.”

I head toward the door, needing space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Insect’s buzz and animals call from their place on the opposite side of the river, as I make my way back to the cabin. Before going in, I pull out my phone and check the camera feed that Martise installed before we arrived. It points at the bedroom, the living room and the deck, leaving the bathroom out of view. I want to keep Harriet safe, not perv on her.

She’s asleep, the tray of food delivered for dinner empty and discarded on the bed. I slip past her, keeping quiet as I head toward the bathroom. Checking again that Harriet is deeply asleep, I take my sweaty shirt off and strip down to my boxers, grab a new set of clothes, and head into the shower.

As I pass the mirror, the tattoos on my left arm come to life. A treasure from each place Gen and I ever traveled to. A dozen memories from our happiest moments.

The bench we sat on in New York feeding the pigeons till we were covered in feathers and poop, eventually getting in trouble and racing back to our hotel where we laughed till our cheeks were damp. The cherry blossoms in Japan we stood under and kissed for half an hour, the taste of sake on our lips. The waffle cones stacked with gelato and a layer of molten Nutella that we licked and slurped as we wandered along the streets of Florence in the middle of the night, sweaty and delirious from jetlag, but so insanely in love.

The touch of Gen’s fingers as she traced each one while we lay in bed and reminisced on our highs and our lows is no longer as fresh in my memory. No longer as potent.

Stepping away from the mirror, I shower under icy water, rubbing my face till it’s red and raw. I need to get the image out of my head of Harriet standing before me in the plane; her makeup strong, yet subtle, her expression no longer full of loathing, but helpless curiosity. Those fucking blue eyes. No, instead, I’m confronted with a new image.

Harriet, lying on her side, her lips slightly parted, her face impossibly serene. Her body lax with sleep. Vulnerable and delicate.

Trusting.

It’s the worst sort of thing. And for the first time in ten years, I don’t look away.

15

Etta

‘come out and play’- Billie Eilish

There’s a body next to me.

A very large, very masculine, very warm body.

I lie still for several long seconds, wondering what I’m supposed to do. Do I get up and run for the shower before he wakes? Do I roll over and poke him on the shoulder and greet him with a boot to the face?

My entire body tingles with awareness. Even my breathing has spiked. There’s something so incredibly intimate about sharing a bed, sharing oxygen as you sleep. It strikes an exposed nerve, blunt and uncomfortable. I haven’t slept next to someone in a long time. And it’s as important to me as having healthy mental boundaries at work.

It’s too much, too soon. I don’t like the way the scent of his whiskey soaked skin makes my stomach flutter, or how his heat wraps around my back, warming me to my core.

Nope. Nope. Shower, it is.

My fingers creep over the covers, my body prepares to take flight, every muscle coiled and tense. I stick one leg out, shivering as the balmy temperature of the morning air slithers along my calf. I tuck my shoulder and begin to roll.

“Good morning.”

“Shit!”

I spring from the bed like a rabbit, my ankle catching in the sheets, testing my balance. An exasperated, embarrassed yelp slips out of my mouth as I untangle myself, only to choke on a gasp when I notice Odin.

He’s lying with his hands resting on the pillow behind his head, his entire naked torso on full glorious display. His skin is creamy and smooth and a little bit golden, and the right angles of his arms accentuate every curve and dip of muscle.

I am gobsmacked.

He slept next to me all night.

He slept next to me, shirtless. ALL NIGHT!

“Good morning,” I squeak and grab the sheets to cover my body from his view. “Did you sleep well?”

He doesn’t even look my way when he answers. “Not particularly. It’s hard when your bedmate snores like an injured elephant.”

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